


How Can You Stand Me

by orphan_account



Category: Stella Glow
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Haven't played past chapter 4 yet but I had the Plot Bunnies, Self-Esteem Issues, angsty fluff, bodyguard crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How can you stand me?" Sakuya wondered, blunt as always. Nonoka looked up, head tilted in confusion, pen lifted just off the page.</p>
<p>(It had to be done.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Can You Stand Me

Sakuya wouldn't lie. She could be a bit mean sometimes— harsh, you could say. Blunt. Sarcastic. Cold. Bossy. Maybe cruel, depending on whether or not she'd had her coffee at the right time that morning. She knew this, and had accepted it. Being cold and distant was easier, she'd found, than being nice, because when you were nice, people got it in their heads that they could get you to bend one way or another. Better to be cruel, so when they tried, they'd go away with their palms full of thorns.  
  
Of course, she couldn't quite bring out her fangs as the Priestess of Amatsu. There wasn't a day she didn't regret allowing herself to be molded into that role, and now she was stuck— stuck being a figurehead for a country full of people that should have better things to do with their lives. (Sakuya would never admit it to anybody, but she kind of hated them sometimes.) The Priestess, she knew by heart, was never anything less than perfect. As the Priestess, everybody loved her and could never bother to see her as anything but unattainable. This was the paradox that Sakuya called home; she hated having to be perfect, but if she wasn't perfect, nobody would love her. She didn't want people to love her (because that would hurt), but she couldn't bear being hated because of who she really was. She hated being who she really was because it scared everyone away, but on the other hand, she didn't want them around anyway. So she could never be anything but perfect, since the other option was worse than just internally detesting everyone she spoke to.  
  
Well, not everyone. That kid Alto was alright, if a bit weird, and it concerned her how he showed very little character traits aside from reckless empathy and willingness to poke around in people's hearts. The other witches, Popo and Lisette, were good to exchange smalltalk with over dandelion coffee and purple cookies, but little else. The big oaf with the stick up his ass seemed to understand who she was and didn't hate her for it while giving her her space, which she grudgingly respected. The lazy redhead annoyed her for reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on, and she hadn't communicated much with the commander when it wasn't necessary. The merchant kid fit in there somewhere, but she saw so little of him, there was no point in trying to judge whether she liked him or not.  
  
And then, Sakuya had to sigh to herself, there was this girl.  
  
Sakuya had to admit that she admired Nonoka's tenacity. Perhaps the most useless Shinobi of them all, that overslept and could barely say half a sentence to the commander without that box on her head, and ate too many sweets for it to possibly be good for her complexion at all, and had to watch her feet when going down stairs because of the very real possibility that her head would reach the bottom first if she didn't. And yet she somehow managed to get everything done— all of Sakuya's ridiculous tasks she couldn't care less about, her own business, and staying alive in battle without much trouble. It was utterly perplexing, how Nonoka could put up with all of that (plus Sakuya's general awfulness) and still somehow bother spending time with Sakuya at all. It'd puzzled her when they were children, and it puzzled her now.  
  
Nonoka had set her box aside for the time being, as she signed order forms for Sakuya's boxes of fan letters, since the cardboard made it hard to see what she was writing, and she didn't need the box when it was just them anyway. Nothing Sakuya ever said to her would've taken much confidence to answer, at least Sakuya figured, and anyway, it just wouldn't do if she couldn't see where she was writing.  
  
Sakuya had a warm cup of mint tea in her hands (mint was good for bloating, and although that wasn't an active problem at the moment, one could never be to careful), but she was ignoring it in favor of staring at Nonoka. Her eyes were squinting, just a little bit, her brows furrowed enough to get her point across but not enough to cause premature wrinkles. Objectively, Nonoka was rather plain, but as focused on appearances as Sakuya was, the puzzle that waas Nonoka was a bigger matter to think about.  
  
"How can you stand me?" Sakuya wondered, blunt as always. Nonoka looked up, head tilted in confusion, pen lifted just off the page.  
  
"What do you mean, milady?" she questioned. "I'm bound by duty to serve you, if that's what you—"  
  
"Not that," Sakuya interrupted. "I'm not asking about your job, which is a rare treat, so you'd best shut up and answer right. I mean, how can you stand me as a person?"  
  
Nonoka blinked, though she lowered her head. "M-milady, I'm afraid I… don't understand."  
  
Sakuya scoffed. "Of course you don't," she muttered. "Look. I'm asking you, Nonoka, as another human being and not as your master. How can you stand me?"  
  
Nonoka pursed her lips, setting her pen down and twiddling her thumbs anxiously. She avoided looking at Sakuya— that was fine, Sakuya had expected that— and looked hesitantly to her box, as if putting it on would help her answer the question.  
  
"B-because I love you, milady," Nonoka finally admitted, staring hard at the grain of the table. "In the way a guard loves her master. I th-think you're nice to be around. I-I know I'm unworthy of thinking such things, let alone saying it, but, i-it's the truth. Er, milady."  
  
Nonoka lowered her head, and Sakuya felt like she'd been hit in the face with a door. Her immediate instinct was to ask if Nonoka was a masochist, because anybody with a brain could tell she was absolutely awful. Sakuya had worked hard at building walls upon walls around herself, and here was Nonoka, smashing through them— well, not really smashing through them. More like sitting on the outside and pretending this was a meaningful relationship, even though Sakuya treated her like garbage.  
  
"Are you stupid?" Sakuya blurted. "Or do you just not have a spine? What sort of answer is that?"  
  
"Y-you asked for the truth, milady," Nonoka mumbled. "A-and any Shinobi knows to never obscure the truth when asked."  
  
"But why?" Sakuya demanded. "Why do you love me? How could you love me? Nononka, I'm awful, and especially to you!"  
  
"B-but I don't think that's all there is to you," Nonoka said quickly, as if she were trying to shut her mouth before the words got out. "I-I know you have your reasons f-for acting this way, milady, b-but… but you're not just an awful person. Y-you can be kind, too."  
  
Sakuya's first instinct was to shut it down and pretend it hadn't even gotten to her— except the statement had done something, knocked loose a stone in the walls, and now Sakuya was being stared in the face with a wall that could crumble if she let anything else in. She cursed inwardly, cursing stupid Nonoka and her stupid devotion and stupid delusion that whatever scrap of stupid kindness she'd stupidly shown all those stupid years ago was still there.  
  
She forced herself to scoff. "Whatever. You believe whatever delusions you have about me. As long as you get your job done, I couldn't care less."  
  
Nonoka lowered her head and mumbled something, as if Sakuya hadn't just gotten across the very clear but tacit point that the conversation was over.  
  
"What was that?" Sakuya demanded.  
  
"I s-said it's true," Nonoka squeaked. "M-milady. Y-you can be kind, y-you have been before! Not just to me, either, a-and that's why I love you."  
  
"You're seriously deluded," Sakuya scoffed. She found herself wanting to say something very strange— about how Nonoka deserved better than impossible stacks of orders and constant beratement, about how she deserved someone that would treat her with real kindness and not bother hiding who they really were by wall after wall of coldness and bossiness and cruelty. Someone who wasn't too stubborn to bother letting anyone in for fear of being used, to afraid of being alone to react to kindness with anything but thorns, too desperate to be loved to think of love as anything but anyone unattainable. Surely Nonoka thought higher of herself than that.  
  
"M-maybe," Nonoka mumbled. "B-but… I don't think I mind, milady. I do love you."  
  
"Stop saying that," Sakuya demanded, bristling. "You don't love me. Nobody does. Who in their right mind would love me, unless they're a fan of being bossed around for— for no good reason, and…"  
  
A drop of water landed on Sakuya's hand, and Sakuya realized there were tears running down her cheeks. She mumbled a curse and dried them off on her sleeve, not caring how unappealing it was, cursing her stupid self for being stupid and crying stupidly about a stupid thing stupid Nonoka said that wasn't true anyway.   
  
Nonoka had gone quiet, staring at her hands and forcing herself to keep her head down. She was clenching them together so hard her knuckles were white.  
  
Sakuya sighed. The wall had crumbled, and she could only watch as the dust settled. So much for being perfect— she had to stop this from ever happening again if she were going to remain the Priestess. The Priestess never cried for any reason, so naturally, neither could Sakuya. But the Priestess wasn't there, and Sakuya couldn't call on her for help.  
  
"Do you really think I'm worth devoting yourself to because I might've done something marginally helpful once?" Sakuya muttered. "That's the stupidest reason I've ever heard."  
 Nonoka winced. "W-well, it meant a lot to me," she mumbled. "I s-saw you, and you were so confident and held your head so high, I th-thought I might be able to do it, too. M-maybe that, if I stood next to you, protected you, devoted myself to serving you, I might, maybe, someday, become something th-that somebody would want. S-somebody worth something."  
 "Damn it, Nonoka," Sakuya sighed, pressing her forehead hard into one of her hands. "I just don't understand. Why?"  
  
"Because I—" Nonoka tried to say.  
  
"Don't say it," Sayuka interrupted. "Don't you dare say it's because you love me. What the hell is there to love? I'm only the Priestess because I'm perfect, and I can't even get that right, so what am I at all besides mean and— and nasty, and cruel! And then I can't be the Priestess because I'm mean and nasty and cruel, so then there just leaves nothing at all, and you can't devote yourself to nothing, so why don't you just leave and do something for yourself?"  
  
"But I can't!" Nonoka retorted. "Milady, I've devoted myself to serving you and you alone. I know I'm an awful Shinobi that trips over my own feet, a-and anyone else would think I'm worth less than garbage because I am, but— but you keep me around and give me something to do and somewhere to go, and I don't care how mean you act because I just know there's more to you than that!"  
  
"What are you going on about?" Sayuka scoffed. "You being worth less than garbage? What sort of pathetic lie is that? Sure, you're about as observant as a brick and clumsier than a stack of them, but—" Sayuka bit her tongue. What was she saying? She couldn't be seriously saying something nice. Nothing good ever came from being nice. And yet, she couldn't stop— she felt, somehow, that Nonoka needed to know how ridiculous it was to think so badly of herself when she was twice the person Sayuka would ever be. At least Nonoka didn't bother hiding behind wall after wall of spikes and thorns.   
  
"Do you realize what you are?" Sayuka finally said. "Look at you! Anyone else would chew off their right arm for a guard like you, and you're wasting your time with someone who doesn't even treat you the way you ought to be! I don't even have the right to love you, and—" She clamped her mouth shut. What was she saying? Love? What was that about? (It concerned her that she wasn't denying it, even to herself. Maybe this was one of those things she'd sat on for ages without even realizing.) And she knew, somehow, that she didn't mean love in the way Nonoka meant it.  
  
Nonoka blinked, risking a glance up. Sayuka had stood up, gripping the back of her chair with her impeccably-manicured hands, her tea long forgotten, bloating be damned. She wasn't looking at Nonoka either, seemingly trying to drill a hole in the table with her eyes. Nonoka had seen Sayuka upset before, but never dared to enter the room, because when Sayuka was upset, things tended to catch fire. As prickly as Sayuka always was, trying to comfort her when something was bothering her was a life-threatening situation, so everyone gave her a wide berth. Nonoka had never thought too much about it, but that'd always seemed awfully lonely.  
  
"But, milady," Nonoka whispered, looking back at her hands. "I do love you."  
  
Sayuka shook her head, and yet she also wanted to ask Nonoka to say it again. "Bull."  
  
"I do!" Nonoka insisted. "M-milady, I… I can think of no place I would rather be than by your side! You're so strong and beautiful and incredible, a-and for some strange reason, y-you keep me around!"  
  
"And what about you?" Sayuka demanded. "Do you even know how much you do? You've put up with me for years— years! Years of me bossing you around for things I don't even care about at all, barely giving you a break because— because I can't manage my own damn self well enough to— to t-tell you what I really think."  
  
Damn it, she was tearing up again. Sayuka blinked stubbornly, clenching her hands in the chair, glaring at the table as if its lack of eyes would help her say what she needed to say. "Nonoka, I," she finally sighed, feeling the other walls crumble. All the anger and emotion left her with a whoosh, leaving a sore, gaping pit of some raw emotion that'd been pressed down in there for so long, Sayuka couldn't tell what it was to begin with.  
  
"I think I love you, Nonoka," she said, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "And I know I don't deserve you. You deserve someone that— that'd treat you well, the way you deserve to be treated, instead of handing you a box and ordering you around."  
  
Nonoka blinked. This wasn't the kind of love that a guard felt to her master, nor even the kind between friends. Sayuka meant the kind of love that Queen Anastasia and the court musician Medea had, which Nonoka knew because they said it, all the time, and she'd heard it mentioned that they were in love several times, so it had to be true.  
  
Sayuka swallowed "Don't say you love me too," she said, as if she were trying to keep the emotions back. "Please, Nonoka, just— please don't. You deserve better."  
  
"But, milady," Nonoka protested.  
  
"Don't say it," Sayuka demanded, her voice breaking. She let her head hang, and Nonoka had to take a minute to process it. She'd seen Sayuka upset, yes, but never like this. Never looking so completely and utterly broken.  
  
Nonoka didn't speak for a long time, but once she did, it was when she'd come around the other side of the table and taken one of Sayuka's slender hands in her own. Sayuka hadn't noticed— Nonoka really was a Shinobi, after all.   
  
"Milady," Nonoka whispered. They were close now, closer than Sayuka was used to. She wanted to bristle— but it was Nonoka, and Sayuka had found as of recently that her instinct made a number of exceptions in Nonoka's case.   
  
"I have to disobey your orders," Nonoka mumbled. "Because I love you, too."  
  
It was a horrible idea, but Sayuka kissed her, bridging the height gap between them by standing on her toes. Her lips felt like they were burning, feeling an honest touch after so long a time of being alone— and yet, the pain didn't make her want to retreat again, into her walls and her thorns and her rows of jagged teeth. Nonoka deserved better, and yet— there she was.  
  
"I'm vile, Nonoka," Sayuka mumbled, leaning her forehead on Nonoka's shoulder as if defeated. "You deserve better."  
  
"Milady," Nonoka tried to say.  
  
"Don't call me that," Sayuka interrupted. "Say my name."  
  
Nonoka bit her lip. "S-Sayuka."  
  
"Good," Sayuka murmured. "Now what is it?"  
  
Nonoka didn't say it for quite some time, but the time was spent with Sayuka's head on Nonoka's shoulder, their fingers laced together and the bolt on the door shut tight.  
  
"You deserve better, too, Sayuka," Nonoka murmured. "So, in that case, I think we can deserve better together."  
  
It was on the tip of Sayuka's tongue to say how horribly unhealthy this must've been— but she didn't, and let herself face the world from behind her ruined walls.


End file.
